


The New Chair

by Bus1Baby



Category: DC Animated Universe, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics), Suicide Squad - Fandom
Genre: Arkham Fun, Dr Quinzel, F/M, Fluff, I Live For These Moments With You, Spinny chairs, headcanon based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:57:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bus1Baby/pseuds/Bus1Baby
Summary: Harleen somehow manages to get herself a new chair and, of course, donates it straight to her favourite patient. Funny and cute.General Fluff.Based on Murderous-Manipulative-Angel's Headcanon on Tumblr.Here's the link to it: http://murderous-manipulative-angel.tumblr.com/post/149330641552/random-headcanon





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Murderous-Manipulative-Angel on Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Murderous-Manipulative-Angel+on+Tumblr).
  * Inspired by [Random Headcanon](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/252796) by Murderous-Manipulative-Angel on Tumblr. 



A man in a white coat hurries over to her.  
“Dr. Quinzel,” he says, once he is by her side. She stops, allowing him to continue.  
“Your chairs arrived. I wanted to apologize on behalf of this place for being so unwelcoming to you,” he gushes.  
“It’s fine. I work here for the love anyway. Thank you.”  
“Keep up the good work, Doc. It’ll be in your office later today.”  
“Could it be there for 1 o’clock? I’ve got a two-hour session with 052165 at that time.”  
“I’ll do my best.”  
*****  
“Sit down, clown,” the guard growls, hitting the man’s shoulders, trying to make his knees give way, “I said,” the guard raises his baton, “Sit-“  
The door opens and the psychiatrist walks in. She gazes upwards to see the scene.   
“Leave him alone!” She cries, before quickly pulling her professional mask over again, “he’s my patient, not yours. I administer the sanctions.”  
The green haired man’s smile grows even wider as the guard begins to walk out.  
The guard gives one last look at her to check she’s serious, then leaves.   
“Oh, Doc, you shouldn’t’ve!” the clown hums, she looks up, opens her mouth to say she hates seeing them pushing him around, then realizes he’s talking about the chair. He struts over and plonks himself down on it.  
She smiles.  
“I still have to strap you, J,” she points out, bending down in front of him and fasting his legs to the chair. She makes sure not to attach them too far down so that he can still move about with it.  
She stands up and then looks down at him.   
“All good,” she confirms with yet another smile.  
“Doc-tor Quin-zel.”  
“Yes?”  
“Where’s the voice gone?” he smirks.  
“You know it’s not allowed,” she sighs, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.  
“Now, now tell me, who’s stopping you, hum?”  
She puts her head in her hands, secretly loving how he’s the only soul on earth that cares about who she really is.  
She brings her head up again, giving him a look of defeat.  
“Fine. How’s about this? Do I sound better to ya?”  
“Perfect,” out flash the grills on his teeth, glinting in the low lighting. He explained the reasoning behind them a few sessions back. She adores how brave he is.  
“When I get out- when we get out, I’ll have to show you my- my place,” He ponders about what he had just said. He can actually see himself doing so. Weird.  
“What’s it like, J?”  
“Just like me, doc. You’ll fit in, you’ll fit right in.”  
She beings to think about it, what would his place look like? Lavish with purple and green accents, spray painted parts with glints of gold and weapons every now and again. She imagines herself walking down to the basement, the abandoned warehouse look that it has, the odd stains on the floor, the- she shakes herself out of his trance.   
“I’ve gotta give ya your meds, now, alright?”   
She stands up, then walks over to the cupboard. She reaches up for the metal handle then freezes. The sound of wheels being scratched against the cold floor rings through her ears. She slowly looks to her side and there he his. This time his smile reaches his eyes, he looks genuinely happy to be nearer to her and it makes her heart melt.  
“What am I being fed today, doc?”  
She giggles.  
“Well, with a little… persuading, I managed to get ya some of the nicer tasting stuff, so, today we’ve got strawberry, strawberry, and yuck. Sound good?”  
“Sounds better than the crap they serve as food here.”  
Her face hardens.  
“You should’a said! I could’a given ya some other stuff!”  
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”  
“No. It’s not. Lucky for you I brought a lot with me today as I was hoping to go out tonight, but it’s fine. Where was I to go anyway?”  
“A pretty girl like you could go anywhere,” he whispers.  
“Ya say that but you’re the only one he believes it.”  
He rips his gaze away from her and hisses. She knows now that his ‘episodes’ aren’t aimed at her. He’s either annoyed at himself or something in the room. Considering the wall he was glaring at was neither two-way or decorated she simply let him be. She could use this time to mix up various drugs to try and ‘cure’ him anyway. She didn’t give him anything really, it was all extremely weak doses of harmless things mixed in a bottle. She couldn’t risk losing what she had next to her. After all, she was quite fond of it.   
“Doc-tor.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Do you have any- do you have any… connections outside of here?”  
“Family, but I lost all my friends after leaving school and no, I’m not in any relationships.”  
The genuine smile forms again but it quickly covered up with a hiss and a spin on the chair. She has to put a hand over her mouth to not laugh at his antics. He faces her again, tilting his head, a smile present again.  
“It appears- it appears, my dear, we have something in common, Miss Quinn, well, minus the family.”  
“Quinzel. My surname is Quinzel.”  
“Oh, I know. It’s just- it’s just your name, your name would suit me if it were- if you changed it to Harley Quinn. Like a harlequin clown, you see.”  
“I’ve always loved the name, Harley…”  
His thoughts suddenly consume his reality. Flashing images of Ace Chemicals and a beautiful girl next to him. His mind chases after the idea like a dog, loving every second. Her skin is more humane than his but beautiful all the same. He reaches out to touch her, his pale hand stretched before him, it’s only seconds before she takes it in her smaller one. She giggles and tugs him closer, pushing her lips onto his. He lets out a growl. His wraps a hand around her neck, holding her in place. He moves his mouth down to her neck, creating a purple mark. She reacts perfectly.  
“Mistah J…” the girl whispers back in that accent, god that accent. The accent of-  
“J? Mistah J?” Harleen. He snaps his head around to look at her, he stares at her in shock, “what’s wrong, J?” she asks.  
“Leave.” He commands.  
“J, would you j-“  
“GO!” he shouts. Rage filling every cell in his body.   
She nods, locks the cupboards and walks towards the door. She nods at the guards when she walks out.  
“Finished early?” The first man asks.  
“Yeah. He was… he was really co-operative today. Don’t talk to him or hurt him. He needs to think.”  
He never had those thoughts again. He swore never would. Oh but this was just the beginning. He buried the idea so no one could find it. As his plan developed, as she spent all her time dreaming of him, as he asked her to do ridiculous things, as she swallowed his every word, as he spent all his time denying that he was dreaming of who he wanted her to be.


End file.
